Complications of Boys
by ElGato44
Summary: After Harry defeated Voldemort, Hermione goes back to Hogwarts trying to finish her formal education. Now single, Hermione's worried about being constantly thought as 'one of the boys.' Longer summary inside. Epilogue and other aspects of DH disregarded.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: With the exception of a few OCs, this world belongs to the great Jo Rowling and her affiliates.

Summery: After the fall of Voldemort, Hermione goes back to a rejuvenated Hogwarts to finish her formal education. After a brief and unsuccessful stint with Ron, and hanging out with other boys, she is left to wonder if she will forever be considered as just 'one of the boys'. What can she do to break out of that type cast?

-I was mostly inspired by a slew of movies but I plotted this out after watching "Easy A."

Chapter 1

Here she was again. At Hogwarts. The smoke had finally cleared after Harry defeated Voldemort, but the dust kicked up again with ensuing never-ending celebrations. Hogwarts, thanks to the remaining staff, was rebuilt in a matter of months. Just in time for a new generation of students.

Of course, Hermione went back to school to finish her final year that she had spent chasing Horcruxes. It was mostly by some probing by the new Headmistress McGonagall. McGonagall even offered her Head Girl position.

That was the kicker. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, she dreamed of being in that position. While Hermione was sure her experiences on the run was more than enough to warrant her degree, she felt a formal education would satiate her thirst for the classroom setting. Besides, her fondest memories were at Hogwarts, not in the woods and creeks she ran through with Harry and Ron.

Those two of the "Golden Trio" continued on with Auror training. Usually, the Aurory required a degree to even be considered into the training program, but it was Harry Potter. He killed freakin' Voldemort. That was even better than a degree.

Hermione was sure she could be admitted into the program as well, if she wanted to be an Auror, but she wanted a more practical profession. Now that Voldemort was gone, the Aurory could pretty much sit and relax, and occasionally capture a few straggling Death Eaters.

Well, she had a whole year to think about it. Maybe she could take an apprenticeship and boost up her résumé. Heck there were a whole things she wanted to do before she entered the real world.

Seeing McGonagall again was one of them. She had always been one of Hermione's favorite teachers. She was masterful and powerful, adept at everything, strict but understanding at the same time. Her sternness and focus would make her tenure as Hogwarts Headmistress much different than Dumbledore's near whimsical demigod presence.

She entered through the double doors alone. The term had yet to start, but Head Boy and Girl were required to arrive a few days early to get informed on rules and regulations. Never had she seen Hogwarts so empty.

"Hello?" she called through the empty Entrance Hall, unsure whether or not to just head up to the Headmistress' office on her own. Her voice bounced off the suits of armor that protected the castle months before.

"Miss Granger—"

"Jeesh!" Hermione yelped, jumping in surprise. She looked down to see tiny old Professor Flitwick by her leg smiling up at her.

"Professor Flitwick! It's so good to see you. Sorry I got so startled."

"No matter," Flitwick squeaked with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Minerva is waiting for you."

Professor Flitwick led her to the Headmistress' office and stopped at the gargoyle guarding the office.

"Calico," Flitwick said and the gargoyle jumped out of the way, letting them pass through.

McGonagall sat behind the Headmistress' desk with smile on her face, the portrait of Dumbledore directly behind her. Dumbledore, now finally awake, beamed and seemed to lean forward in his chair in interest. In a chair opposite the desk, was a young black man, who looked wide-eyed at Hermione, surprised that he was in the presence of one of the great heroes of the Wizarding world.

McGonagall rose from her chair and glided towards her, shaking her hand, "Hermione, it's so good to see you."

"You as well, Professor."

"It lightens my heart to see that we are able to see each other again in joyous circumstances."

"Indeed," piped Dumbledore who began looking around obscurely when McGonagall turned to glare at him for interrupting her.

"Hermione," McGonagall gestured to the young man in the chair, "This our Head Boy this year, Clinton White, from Slytherin."

Clinton stood from his chair and wiped his large sweaty hands on his robes, before extending one to her, "A pleasure, Miss Granger."

"Clinton, I assume you already know who Hermione is?"

Clinton smiled, "Yes Professor."

Clinton White was tall, and handsome, but seemed to be inherently nervous and stricken with low self-esteem. But he was a good representative of Slytherin. He had high marks and had been working on programs with McGonagall to educate students on tolerance of all sorts, including Houses, race, color, sexual orientation, and magical blood.

"I think this whole House rivalry thing sends the wrong message," McGonagall said. "The Houses were meant to unite, but unfortunately all it has done is create labels for the members in the Houses that could lead to…disastrous results."

With that McGonagall peered back at Dumbledore, who gave a sad nod. McGonagall patted Clinton on the shoulder, "Mr. White has been giving me some excellent ideas on having guest speakers come in and talk about diversity and tolerance."

Hermione nodded with a smile, "I'm impressed, Mr. White. That sounds like a wonderful idea."

White looked embarrassed, but he still managed a smile and stammered, "Th-thank you…"

"In addition to that, I have spoken to a friend of mine who runs a school in the Americas and he thinks it would be a good idea to have an exchange program with Hogwarts. So we have a new student in his seventh year coming here to study for his final credits. I would really like it if you both help him out. Especially for the first few weeks. America doesn't have castles like we do here and I don't think they have a problem with changing staircases."

Suddenly they all heard a noise from the outside.

"Oh that must be him now…"

There was a heavy knock on the door.

"Okay, Hagrid. Bring him in."

Hagrid opened the door, "Here ya are…"

A young man was at Hagrid's side. He, like Clinton, was tall and handsome, but he was much more imposing. He had the body of an athlete, and short dirty blonde hair that seemed to stand on end. Instead of robes, he wore a vintage t-shirt and loose cargo shorts. On his ears were two small diamond studs.

"Hermione, Clinton, this is Alexander Summers. He's our exchange student from America."

Alex walked forward and extended a hand, shaking both Hermione and Clinton's hands, "Hey, nice to meet you. Sorry about the get-up. I literally just got out of the Apparation point when Hagrid picked me up. I didn't have much time to change."

Before McGonagall could respond, a portrait of a former Headmaster spoke in awe, "My lord…I have never seen a _yankee_ inside Hogwarts walls…"

Alex seemed slightly offended by the way the Headmaster used the term "Yankee."

"Sorry sir, you must have me mistaken with someone else. I don't play Major League Baseball."

His words were meant to be a sarcastic response to the portrait, but since the majority of people in the room were British wizards, the term "baseball" was lost on them.

"Nevermind," the young man grumbled scratching his head.

"Alexander," McGonagall got his attention, "Hermione and Clinton will help you if you need anything. Since you were Sorted into Gryffindor, Hermione will most assuredly be most available to you."

Summers smiled, "Alright, Hermione…?

"Granger," Hermione answered. "Welcome to Gryffindor, Mr. Summers."

Summers chuckled, "Mr. Summers is my father. Call me Alex. The only time I hear Alexander is when I'm in trouble with my mother. I makes the hair at the back of my neck stand up."

McGonagall patted the tall young man on the shoulder, "I apologize then, Mr. Summers. Please sit and relax while I go over some rule changes with the Head Boy and Girl."

"Yes, ma'am."

There weren't much in terms of rule changes, except a few places of the castle that were off limits due to renovations. She also went over harsher punishments for even playful duels on the grounds.

Alex sat quietly looking at all of the surroundings as if he were new to magic. Sure, he was familiar with the portraits, but a few other things in the office, such as Fawkes, garnered his questioning attention.

Finally, McGonagall finished, "That's it. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"Will do, Headmistress," Clinton said.

"All that's left to do is to prepare the castle for the Welcoming Ceremony. Mr. Summers…?"

"Yes?"

"I would really appreciate the help if you would join us," McGonagall said.

Alex stood up, straightening his shorts, "Sure, I don't see why not. As long as I don't have to do too much Transfiguration. After seven years, you'd think I'd get the hang of it. One time I had to transform a rat into a Great Dane…"

Alex paused as he shuddered, "We had a 400 pound rat running through the halls…"

Once again he paused and shook his head, "Luckily, my Transfiguration instructor had the sense of humor to transfigure a 500 pound rat trap to catch it."

There was pause in the room as pretty much everyone was trying to envision the fiasco.

"What about Charms…?" McGonagall asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Summers' eyes widened, "Oh God yes. I'm cool with Charms. No need to worry about that."

Hermione sighed inwardly. 'Cool with Charms'. She'd have to get the hang of his northern U.S. vernacular. It wasn't so bad. It certainly could've been worse. Hermione was aware of the stereotypical American accents, such as the New Yorker dirty talk and the southern drawl. Alex's accent had the soft twang that was probably the typical American accent, but his words were…different, certainly to the older generation in the room.

Hermione glanced up at Dumbledore's portrait. He was stroking his beard, a smile of curiosity underneath the white beard in regards to the American exchange student.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was spent helping Professors Flitwick and Sprout prepare the dining hall for the Welcoming Feast. She could distinctly remember Alex's head staring straight up at the ceiling that unveiled the sky. He gave a sharp whistle of amazement.<p>

"Haven't seen anything like this before?" Hermione asked, deciding to strike up a conversation with her new Housemate.

"Nuh-uh," Alex responded, not taking his hazel eyes off the vast hall. "We don't have any castles in America. Our biggest buildings are usually government buildings and museums and they aren't nearly as old, no matter how many Corinthian columns they put on those buildings."

Hermione laughed. The kid was smart. Alex too seemed relieved that she got the reference, if not a little amazed. Not many seventeen-year-olds had conversations with the word "Corinthian" in them.

"Here, you are good with Charms, right?" she asked and Alex tore his gaze away from the magnificent ceiling and nodded. Hermione pointed towards Professor Flitwick who was charming candles to float and give off flames of different colors.

"Professor Flitwick is the Charms professor here. You can go help him out, while I take care of the Transfiguration."

"Got it," he responded jogging towards the miniature man, bending down and shaking the Professor's hand.

And this was the beginning. Hermione was stuck alone with two young (and attractive) men. Too bad she decided to go off men for a while. Yes, she and Ron had their moments a few months ago and they pursued dating for a little while, but it never got beyond that. Hermione didn't see it going anywhere and Ron felt like he was dating his sister. Hermione felt the same. If she were to explain it to someone she couldn't quite point out what was wrong. Ron was a good man and deceptively romantic, but she didn't quite click with him. They decided, thankfully, to remain friends. Ginny and Harry had better luck.

Hermione had a theory on that. While she and Ron hung out with each other day in and day out for seven intense years, Harry and Ginny had gotten to know each other through comfortable distance, therefore erasing the sibling-type relationship.

It didn't matter now. Hermione was secretly thinking on what type of love life she wanted. If she wanted to call it that. She was famous now, so she had to be careful, but secretly, she doubted herself. Who really would want a brainiac girl with bushy hair?

_Ugh, I don't really want to think about it. Best to remain as goody two-shoes Granger who would not let a boy kiss her without a written contract of some sort._

After things were all set up in the hall, Hermione decided to take Alex to the Gryffindor Common Room. The Fat Lady was surprised to see someone aside from the Headmistress try to enter the Common Room before the start of term.

"My, my, this young gentleman wants to see the valor and wonder of the Gryffindor Common room?"

"If I say yes, am I to assume that you will let me in?" Alex said raising an eyebrow.

The Fat Lady waggled her thick finger, "Not so fast young man. I will open to no one without a password."

Hermione chuckled, "You have been hanging out with Sir Cadogen too much, madam."

The Fat Lady gave a high giggle as she blushed a little.

"Squilly Yiks!" Hermione said aloud, knowing full well that Alex was probably giving her a double take. It was what she did when McGonagall told her.

The door swung open.

"Squilly Yiks?" Alex said incredulously. "What is that exactly? Some sort of wizarding Preparation H?"

"Noo" Hermione said, laughing even when she didn't want to. "Don't worry, the password changes every once in a while."

Alex's attention was now on the Common Room, decorated with red.

"Whoa, that's…a lot of red."

"Those are Gryffindor colors. Red and gold."

Alex eased himself in one of the plush, straight-backed chairs, propping his legs on the ottoman, as if trying to get himself comfortable in his new home before the term starts.

"What is with this whole House thing anyway?"

Hermione sighed, sinking into one of her favorite chairs, feeling fond memories of her innocence wash over her.

"Students are separated into Houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Originally, these Houses compete for House points, which are rewarded and taken away depending on behavior and performance in classes. McGonagall now wants to strive for more House unity. In the recent past, this whole House competition has caused polarizations among the students."

Alex chuckled, "Kinda like our Muggle politics."

"You didn't have Houses at your school?"

Alex shook his head, "Nah, we had dorms though, but nothing that separated amongst Houses. Segregation of any sort is kinda frowned upon in America."

Getting up out of her seat, Hermione motioned for Alex to stand, "I'll show you to the boys' dorms."

They proceeded up the winding staircase to the seventh year boys' dorms. The dorms were all pretty much the same, she learned, from hanging out with Harry and Ron. They never will enjoy the splendor of having senior status. Then again, they probably would've hated it given the seventh year project they all had to do.

The American beside her chuckled when he saw the four-posted beds with the crimson curtains, "I've only seen these beds in historic houses."

"Curtains are fairly effective if you want to study and the other boys are mucking about."

Looking back at Hermione, Alex smiled, "You were one of _those_ girls, huh?"

Her cheeks flushed. Of years trying to wash away the whole bookworm reputation, why was it so transparent to this guy? They haven't known each other a day and he still picked up on that. Maybe it was that whole Head Girl status that tipped him off.

He gave her a friendly touch on the shoulder, feeling bad about what he said, "Shit…I didn't mean it that way."

"It's no bother. I was just wondering how you could see right through me."

He shrugged, "It was just a joke…"

Now she felt bad. Alex was obviously uncomfortable. There was something about him that Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on. He seemed alright by all outward appearances, and he spoke okay. What was it…?

He eased himself on a bed, bouncing a couple of times to test the mattress, a whimsical look on his face.

"So we have this place all to ourselves for the next week, right?"

"Yes, well, you actually you have this whole dorm to yourself. Head Girl has separate rooms, but I'll just be down the hall. I'm behind the portrait of the Red Maiden."

"How appropriate…" Alex murmured staring out the window, sarcasm creeping his tone.

Hermione sucked in a breath, "I'll let you get settled, Mr. Summers."

"It's Alex," the young man amended. "Just call me Alex, Hermione correct?"

She nodded noticing the slight quirk of his mouth.

"I'm refraining from mentioning anything from Shakespeare. It's killing me…"

Playing along, Hermione cocked her head, "Would you like to just get it over with then? What are you going to do? Quote something from _Winter's Tale?"_

She said it almost like a dare, challenging him. Not that she minded having to share a name with a character from Shakespeare's play. Hermione was more or less enthusiastic that this young man, who by all outward appearances was quite a modern-minded fellow, would be even referencing Shakespeare.

"I was going to ask if you have jealous boyfriend named Leontes."

"Seriously?"

"No," Alex groaned scratching the back of his head, "I was going to say that you must be pretty virtuous, if it didn't make anything awkward."

"Even though you just said it?"

"Beats putting on sexual tension for the next few weeks," Alex replied with a tad bit of wit.

Now he was being bold. A little too bold, but he was doing it one purpose. Hermione cautiously nodded eyeing the door.

"Well, while you are thinking about that," Hermione said backing towards the door, "I'm just going to go."

Alex smiled after her, but he seemed dumbfounded.

* * *

><p>AN: Weird and simple vernacular I know. Hopefully it will get better. Before you judge, nothing is as it seems. Anyway, review.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See Ch 1

Chapter 2

Back in old, reconstructed Hogsmeade, Hermione slipped into the Three Broomsticks with the use of a Dillusionment Charm that prevented anyone from registering that she was Hermione Granger, heroine of the Second Fall of Voldemort. Not that she really needed it. Harry was the one who truly needed it.

Hermione was just one of the many heroes of that war and the rest went on with their lives. She couldn't deny the lighthearted feel when she learned that Neville was now in South America participating in an apprenticeship for Herbology. She learned that through a half-page article the Daily Prophet did on him. Poor boy finally got the recognition and retribution he deserved and it was quickly too much. Ron always enjoyed his pseudo-fame as sidekick of Harry Potter, but thankfully he didn't let it get to his head. He was surprisingly focused when he admitted himself into the Aurory program.

Speaking of Ron and Harry, there they were in a booth at the Three Broomsticks. Harry, not surprisingly, had his arm around Ginny. Ron turned in his seat waving Hermione over, that quirky smile on his face. Thank god they bypassed the awkward phase of their break-up.

"Hey guys," she greeted, beaming and sliding next to Ron. "It's good to see you."

"Yes, yes," Harry nodded. "So…is being Head Girl all you dreamed it would be."

"It's a little more responsibility, but I'm sure I can handle it."

Ron snorted through his munching of chips, "Of course. Responsibility has always been your strength."

Hermione laughed, refraining from wrinkling her nose, "And proper table manners has never been yours."

Immediately, Ron snapped his mouth shut, a bulge in his cheek where he stored his food like a chipmunk.

"What about Hogwarts, Hermione?" Ginny asked. "Anything new we can expect? I mean after the downfall of Voldemort there is sure to be some sort of changes."

"McGonagall is going business as usual, which I believe is smart. However there are some changes in terms of the Houses."

Harry cocked his head, bewildered, "How so?"

"There is no 'eternal glory' in gaining the House Cup. Quidditch wins have no affect on the points for Houses. There are going to be more school wide projects, and classes are going to have a sprinkling of students from each of the Houses instead of having all students from two houses in a class. It's to—how did I put it earlier?—prevent polarization of the Houses."

Ruffling his own hair, Harry pulled an expression. It seemed he didn't like the idea, "It seems sound in theory, but do you think it'll work?"

"There's always bound to be people who take House rivalry way too seriously, but I trust McGonagall knows what she's doing."

"Yeah, she's a BAMF…" Ron said with a sheepish smile. At everyone's stare, Ron pulled out a cell phone from his robe pocket.

"It's this Muggle contraption we all have. George has been texting me these acronyms."

Hermione cocked her head, "And…pray tell, Ronald, what does BAMF stand for?"

His blue eyes stared out in space for a moment before cautiously answering, "Bad-Ass Mother Fu—okay so that doesn't apply to her, but she sure is brilliant."

"There you go. Please Ron, don't trust your brother for your exposure to Muggle things."

Harry pulled out his own cell phone, "I use this damned thing once and now they have phone stores all over Diagon Alley. I hope owling doesn't become obsolete."

"Cell phones don't handle parcels so owls will always be used for that. Besides, isn't it part of this whole Muggle culture education thing the Ministry is trying to do to prevent new pureblood fanaticism?" Ginny responded, "Anyway, it's convenient to have conversations miles away without having to wait for an owl for a response."

"Speaking of Muggle culture, Head Boy Clinton Brown is actually creating a program on diversity and tolerance."

Ginny looked like she was hearing Hermione speak another language, "Clinton White? The Slytherin?"

"Yeah, him. What's the issue? He seems like a nice guy," Hermione said. She figured Ginny knew more about White than she did since the two were in the same year.

Ginny just shrugged, "He's one of the better Slytherins and I guess he's smart."

"Clinton White…" Ron tapped his finger to his chin as if the name was ringing a bell.

"Tall, black, right? I think I remember him. You know he's gay."

"What?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah, you know…gay…of the homosexual persuasion…"

Harry's brow lowered at the words Ron used. Pretty advanced words for Ronald Weasley. He reached over and patted Ron's hand, "Don't hurt yourself, mate."

"I know what 'gay' means Ron, the point is how do you know? I don't think you're his type, so he couldn't have come onto you."

There was a shrug, "I heard some things."

Hermione frowned, "My god, you both don't change, do you? Those are just rumors. I mean, if rumors were that Harry was gay, would you believe them?"

Harry stared at his redheaded friend, waiting for Ron to deny such a ludicrous notion.

"Now? No, since he is dating my sister. Before…? I don't know, you could've told me anything and I probably would've been suspicious."

"Thanks Ron," Harry growled.

Hermione gave a sudden exclamation, "Oh! I almost forgot, this year we have an exchange student."

"Really?"

"Yes, he's American and he's been placed in Gryffindor House."

Ginny had a look of amazement on her face, "Wow, wicked."

"Wait," Harry said maybe a little threatened by his girlfriend's fascination with the exchange student, even though she hadn't even met the guy, "Since when did Hogwarts have an exchange program?"

"There were always exchange students at Hogwarts. They are usually seventh years and after Voldemort returned, I presumed Dumbledore put a stop to the program."

"So how is he? Is he cute?" Ginny asked beaming and Hermione shook her head in whimsical dismay.

"He's okay, but there's just something about him that's not quite…right. I don't know maybe it's just me. When you see him maybe you can judge for yourself, Gin."

"Well, what's so strange about him? It's probably nothing, 'Mione," said Ron.

"Really? How many seventeen-year-old boys do you know quote Shakespeare or knows what a Corinthian column is?"

The blank stares the boys gave her proved her point.

"So the kid's smart. What's so strange about that?" Ron asked.

Harry chuckled, "I think Hermione fears some competition."

"That's not true," Hermione said defensively. It couldn't be true. The kid just said he was incompetent at Transfiguration, an area Hermione was particularly adept at, so there was nothing to be "threatened" by. And it just wasn't Summers's smarts that irked her. She could appreciate that. It had to be something else…

"C'mon, Hermione. You got insanely jealous when Snape's old book could do what you couldn't," Harry said. "The guy was obviously a genius, but unlike him, you have better social skills."

_Do I? Do I really? And who is he to compare me to Snape?_

As admirable as the former Headmaster turned out to be, it was just weird being thought alongside him.

Of course, Ginny, being the best of all four in terms of social skills suggested she get to know the new student better and Hermione thought that was fair. The poor kid was in a strange country and probably incredibly nervous. It was only right to help Alex as much as possible.

Ron's phone vibrated and glanced down.

"What does ROFLMAO mean?"

* * *

><p>The next morning, she sat with Clinton White at the Head Table with the other professors for breakfast. Alex was not there.<p>

"Hermione," Hagrid asked next to Madam Hooch, "'Ave you seen 'Arry lately?"

"Yes, Hagrid, I met him and Ron last night."

"How is their Auror training going?" Sprout asked.

"They tell me it's going well. I'm sure they'll do fine in the long run."

"Excuse me, Miss Granger," Clinton sheepishly asked next to her, "D-do you plan on becoming an Auror as well?"

Hermione paused for a moment, not quite sure on how to answer. Clinton ducked his head and lowered his eyes, "F-forgive me."

"No, no, I'm sorry. I'll be honest; I'm not sure where I want to go. I know I should have a better idea by now."

"I wouldn't worry about it Hermione," McGonagall said with a gentle smile, "I'm sure you'll be adept at anything you put your mind to."

The Headmistress glanced at the clock, her face stern with mild concern, "Mr. Summers is fairly late this morning. I hope he isn't lost."

Hermione, for some reason, volunteered to go find him. She didn't know why. She wasn't even finished with her breakfast yet. She started with the Gryffindor dormitory first and knocked on the boys' dorm door first.

"Alex?" No answer.

She knocked again, "Alex? Are you up?"

Hermione heard groaning, like someone was rolling out of bed. Her brow furrowed in curiosity when she heard a thud and rummaging.

The door opened wide swiftly and Alex was standing on the other side, looking frustrated and bleary eyed in a white undershirt that showed off his physique and shorts.

"Good, you're up…"

"Hi. Do you know what time it is? It's…son of a bitch," Alex cursed as he glanced at his watch and pursed his lips. He dropped his hand, hazel eyes rolling, "Alright give me a minute."

He shut the door.

* * *

><p>"Ah, Mr. Summers, nice of you to join us," Professor McGonagall greeted the young man with a smile. Alex ran a hand through his spiky hair, "Sorry for waking up so late."<p>

"We were just worried. Join us for breakfast, why don't you."

"Yes, ma'am," Alex sighed as he sat down, "Thanks for the wake-up call Hermione."

Hermione dropped her fork, biting the inside of her cheek. He said it so casually, but she was still overly suspicious. Maybe she was over analyzing him too much.

"Did you sleep well, I trust?" Flitwick asked.

"Ehh…well, yes actually. Beds are awfully comfortable here, I nearly didn't want to get out of bed."

Before anything else was said, there was a sharp ringing that resonated throughout the hall, but seemed to be coming form Alex's pants pocket. The young man gave an exasperated sigh, and pulled out his cell phone.

"Sorry," he apologized, before flipping the cellular device open and speaking to the person on the other line, "Hellooo? Oh…hi Ma."

His face went red with embarrassment.

"Well, Ma you usually don't call at a time like this, I mean it's…"

He paused and glanced down at his watch and muttered, "Crap."

"…it's early," he continued and stopped as his mother on the other end began speaking to him. He glanced up at the inquisitive staff of the table and murmured, "Excuse me for just a moment," said Alex, standing up and walking a few feet from the table to continue his conversation without disrupting the others.

"I never understood those contraptions," Sprout huffed crossing her arms, "I will make sure the students will have those things off during my class."

Meanwhile, Hagrid had his head inclined in Alex's direction.

"Leave him alone, Hagrid!" McGonagall scolded catching him in the act.

Alex, however was finished with his phone call, "…alright, bye Ma."

He hung up with a beep. Tucking the phone into his pocket he turned to the others and took his seat, "Sorry about that. My mother wanted to give me a wakeup call. It's three in the morning where I'm from."

"Oh my!"

"Yeah, probably why I had so much trouble waking up. You wouldn't have any potion to help me with that, do you?"

"I'll take you to the Hospital Wing after breakfast. Madame Pomphrey will have something," Hermione offered.

"Thanks. I should've guessed my mother would call. She's Jewish so she was a little emotional," Alex's voice shifted to a hard eastern American Yiddish accent. "Oy vey, bubbala, you go across the ocean and you didn't call me? I was getting all fermisht!"

"I don't know what half those words meant," Madam Hooch commented laughing. Alex shrugged casually, "When I play baseball for school they call me the Hebrew Hammer. Well…they also call me the Italian Stallion."

He glanced over at McGonagall, "My dad's Italian. That explains my hard time walking by wet cement and resisting the urge to put someone in it. A Yiddish and Italian family makes for great family reunions by the way. Good thing they changed their names to something vaguely English when they were on Ellis Island."

"'Italian Stallion'? Isn't that from a Muggle movie?_"_ Hermione asked with skepticism.

"_Rocky_. I never said we were the most creative bunch."

"Touché..." Hermione murmured into her goblet of pumpkin juice.

"So…Mr. Summers," Professor Grubbly-Plank began her eyes shining with intrigue, "What is America like?"

Alex's eyes widened. It was certainly a loaded question, no doubt about it.

"Er…well…busy. I'm not totally sure how to answer that."

"Headmaster Waukenon told me a little about your school. How's the curriculum?"

Alex shrugged, "Well, Headmistress, it's pretty much the same here, I think. It'd have to be. Maybe different studies in History, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology given the differences in land, but the general principals are the same I figure. Well, we learn Herbalism instead of Potions, but the principal is the same."

"Well, if you have any trouble, Professor Slughorn would be happy to help."

"I'm sure. Truth be told I'm just worried about Transfiguration."

At which Headmistress told him that she would be teaching her old subject. It was just temporary until she found a new Transfiguration Professor. Then, that was when Hermione realized she found a possible venue for a career. Could she really teach, though? Of course she could. She taught Harry and Ron new things every time.

* * *

><p>Hermione was quite honestly enjoying herself as one of very few who was living in Hogwarts now. No busy hallways, library was stacked, no talking over other people at meal times.<p>

And now, she was free to see Hagrid as much as she could. While his food may have been unappetizing, his company was warm and it reminded her greatly of the good ol' days of mucking about with her friends.

"'Ermione!" Hagrid greeted warmly from his stoop pausing from his carving. "'Tis good to see you."

"Hello Hagrid," she beamed, "What are you carving?"

"Me? Oh an eagle fer young Alex. 'E's been walkin' Fang fer me and I thought I'd give him the gift of the figure of his 'ol country. Charming young fellow, but a bit odd if yer ask me."

So it wasn't just her. Thank god. Yet, what did that make Alex if Hagrid thought he was odd? Poor guy.

"Then again, I never had a conversation with an American before. I always thought it wouldn't that much different."

Hermione sat next to the half-giant as he carved away.

"Hagrid, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything 'Ermione."

"I know this is awkward but do you find that Harry and Ron see me as…well…one of the boys?"

Hagrid raised his eyebrows.

"I know, I know, but I've been just wondering…"

"Yer break up with Ron was that bad, eh?"

"No actually, it wasn't. That's what worries me. I didn't feel heartbreak, because I knew he'd still be my best friend. Yet it still seems like everyone else is finding someone. Harry and Ginny. Malfoy found someone. Even you…"

She stopped when she saw Hagrid's expectant gaze. Hermione changed her sentence fearing he would offend him with the shock of him having a relationship with Madame Maxime.

"…you have to see what's going on. It's not like my…biological clock is ticking…but is it just me?"

Hagrid laughed so hard the gulls perched on his gourds flew into the sky.

"'Ermione there is nothing wrong with you. Jus' relax. You're too smart to be worried about being paired with a partner. You've got brains and could do anything you wanted to do. You shouldn't be worried about boys. Besides, there are plenty of fish in the sea, as they say. You met Clinton Brown and him…"

Hagrid nodded out near the lake.

There was no escaping this guy was there. Alex was there in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants and a baseball cap on his head. Sweat was staining the neck of his shirt and he held a wooden bat up at the ready above his shoulder. A charmed white ball was levitating in midair before shooting towards him. He swung the bat and with a loud crack, the white ball went up, up, up and out over the lake. Out of sight.

"Whoa! Get a load of that one!" she heard him exclaim.

"The Hebrew Hammer," Hermione murmured next to Hagrid.

"He calls it baseball. He sure hits those balls far though."

So that's what she was doing this last week. Guy shopping. Scouting potential suitors. She was acting like an immature fifth year. There was another crack as Alex hit another ball and murmured to himself. Okay, this guy was fairly good looking, and he had a pretty good-looking body, and he was sort of funny in a sardonic sort of way. Plus, he was smart. A perfect match maybe?

Not a chance.

"I'm just kidding 'Ermione," Hagrid laughed.

As Hermione walked back to the castle she passed by Alex, saying good morning.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said back, using the bat to knock the dirt from his tennis shoes. He lifted his hat and wiped his sweaty forehead with his forearm.

"Working out?"

"Yeah. More like hoping I don't get rusty. Don't know why. It's not like I'll play on a team again."

"Baseball, huh?"

Alex nodded, "It's a hard game to explain in a few minutes."

"Don't worry. I've seen it played before. Though I don't follow it. It's kind of like cricket, right?"

"In a way, yes. This is sort of a work-out for me."

"Really?" Hermione said, " You know we have a work-out room by the Quidditch pitch. It's generally reserved for Quidditch teams but the mornings and mid afternoons are usually free for universal use."

"I see. Well, thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

Later that day, Hermione had a run-in with Clinton White. For once he was beaming and not looking like a nervous wreck.

"Excuse me, Granger?"

"Yes? It's Hermione, by the way."

Clinton smiled, showing his white teeth. He held out a piece of parchment, "I have been going through a schedule for the guest speakers and seminars this year. I know you'd like to help. I only have people for the first two weeks."

Hermione glanced at the parchment. The first guest lecture was by a Kenneth Dumba, a prominent wizard from South Africa and one of Nelson Mandela's advisors who helped him through the Apartheid.

"This is a pretty notable wizard, Clinton. How did you get him? He must be terribly busy."

"My uncle has connections. But that's why I scheduled him for the first week. He'll be busy for the rest of the year. Everyone else, Hogwarts has not contacted or confirmed yet. Hopefully we can get it done."

"If not, we'll improvise," Hermione murmured with satisfaction peering at the other names.

"Since Headmistress McGonagall will be teaching Transfiguration as well, we have to work with the Deputy Headmaster this year. McGonagall's got her hands full otherwise."

"Is he here yet?"

Clinton shook his head but stared at her strangely. It was then that she realized that she was scrutinizing him. Trying to catch anything that may prove Ron's theory that this young man was gay.

"Erm…"

Hermione snapped out of her stare, "Sorry, I was thinking of something else. Would it be prudent to have Harry Potter speak at one of the seminars?"

"I guess," Clinton didn't seem too thrilled with the idea. Well, he was Slytherin and probably spent the last seven years brainwashed that Harry was the enemy. In a way he was. After the war, all Slytherins were rounded up, forced to bare their forearms and interrogated by Aurors. Everyone else was relatively untouched, especially Gryffindors.

"We'll come to that bridge when we cross it," Hermione said waving it all away.

"Actually, I think it's 'cross that bridge when we come to it'," Clinton corrected her.

"Dammit, you're right. Sorry I misspoke. I can recite the thirteen uses of Flobberworm fat, but I can't even use a damn colloquialism."

Pursing his lips, Clinton glanced down at his shoes, "I'll be in my dorm if you need anything. I told the portrait to leave you alone."

* * *

><p>AN: Yay! Chapter 2. Please review


	3. Chapter 3

All usual Disclaimers apply and I would like to remind everyone about the OOC and AU warnings mentioned earlier

Chapter 3

Soon enough, term started. As much as Hermione loved having the whole castle pretty much to herself, she couldn't help but feel lighthearted when she sat at the Gryffindor table watching first years be sorted. There were speeches and a moment of silence. Alex was next to her and although he confessed he didn't know much about the war here, he was patient and kept silent in memoriam.

Hermione glanced at the Slytherin table. It was strangely sparse this year, probably after effects of the division during Voldemort's reign. Clinton looked sad and nervous that his own house was lacking in members.

"How's your schedule Hermione?" Alex asked during the feast.

"Oh, just the remaining few classes I have to take for graduation. Most of the time I will be pursuing an apprenticeship with someone."

"Any thoughts on that yet?" Alex asked, popping a carrot in his mouth.

"Maybe teaching here, I suppose. Transfiguration. I figured you'd love that."

"I would actually," Alex lowered his voice to a charming baritone, "That way you can tutor me. Tit for tat."

"I'm going to ignore that comment," Hermione rolled her eyes. "If you need help, I would be glad to help."

"I'm sure. I have Tranfiguration first thing in the morning and then Defense Against the Dark Arts before lunch."

"Oh, good, we have the same Defense class then."

"Good ol' police academy stuff…"

"Mr. Summers—"

Alex jerked so violently that he very nearly spilled his pumpkin juice. He turned around in his seat. McGonagall was standing directly behind him, possibly a little too close, like an overbearing nun in Catholic school. At least that's the image Hermione assumed Alex was having.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I was wondering if you are doing okay so far."

"I'm doing fine thank you for asking," Alex politely responded. "Of course this is the easy part. Come Monday I have classes and try to figure out the clique system. Thank god you guys have Houses, so I that cuts my job in half."

Alex winked at Hermione.

McGonagall sniffed, "Very well, carry on."

After the Headmistress spoke to some Hufflepuff first years, Hermione turned to him.

"Why did you wink at me?

Alex shrugged, "It was a joke."

"The wink or your rant?"

"Could it be both?"

Hermione smiled softly and shook her head, maybe a little amused. Glancing back at all of the students in the hall, Hermione caught Clinton's eye. The man smiled and waved and the other Slytherins peered over their shoulders, some scowling, others raising their eyebrows in surprise.

"There are sure a lot of kids staring at you," Alex chuckled.

"It's because I'm devastatingly beautiful," Hermione said flippantly with every ounce of sarcasm she could muster.

A young fifth year caddy corner to Alex overheard their conversations.

"Wait you don' know?" the boy said in his inner city cockney accent. "That's Hermione Granger, 'ero of Hogwarts."

Alex scratched his head, "Yeah I think I remember reading about that."

Hermione groaned, suddenly knowing what Harry felt like during his tenure here. Great start to her final year.

* * *

><p>As the night drew to a close she headed to Gryffindor Common room. She felt it necessary to clarify rules to the first years and to greet them formally. Besides, Ginny would be there. She could use a close girlfriend to talk to.<p>

"Attention! Attention Gryffindors!" McGonagall's stern shrill resonated throughout the bustling students. Immediately, noticing the Headmistress was speaking, everyone went silent. Hermione watched by the stairway observing the students with a soft smile on her face. Gods, she would kill to have her childhood back. Just seeing all these young faces gave her a nauseating wave of nostalgia. Ginny inched beside her, trying to see what was interesting to her older friend.

"Gryffindors, welcome, welcome!" McGonagall called, holding Alex next to her. He couldn't get far before she would tug at him again. He still smiled sheepishly.

"In addition to our first years, I would like to introduce our exchange student from America. Give our best welcome to Mr. Alex Summers."

There was a mild applause as Alex waved half-heartedly to the students. He turned to shake McGonagall's hand.

"That's the guy?" Ginny said eyeing the new student. "Ohhh, he's cute."

"You honestly think so? He has more jewelry on him than I have in my jewelry box."

"You mean those stud earrings? Are you sure you're Muggle? I've read those Muggle model magazines. A lot of the guys have earrings."

"I know what you are trying to do, Ginny," Hermione groaned as she pulled away from the crowd. Ginny followed.

"I'm just worried. I mean, do you even like guys?"

"Of course I do. What are you playing at?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, turned Hermione by the shoulders so she could see Alex talking excitedly to one of the older students, "Because that is why girls like men."

"He can carry on a conversation?"

"Dammit, Hermione, I could slap you. No!" Ginny sounded frustrated. "Strong, tall. Now what did you say was wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Hermione drawled. "Why don't you talk with him and find out. I'd take out a dictionary though."

Ginny held onto Hermione preventing her from leaving, "Not for me, Hermione. Get back in the game. I never said about anything serious. Just do a little…guy shopping. You've been awfully depressed since you and Ron broke it off."

"You remember, I'm Head Girl," Hermione frowned. "I can't go traversing the galaxy for adventures with the opposite sex."

"You paint a vivid picture."

"Something Ron and Harry wouldn't understand, it's called wit. I don't understand, maybe it's not my time to find a guy. Or I'm not guy material. I mean the other day I asked Hagrid for dating advice."

"EWW!" Ginny looked mortified.

"I KNOW! I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with winging it. I mean, you are beautiful Hermione. Someone's bound to drool after you."

In some ways, Ginny was right. She was now the spinster of Gryffindor, who wouldn't give a second look at a man. Sure guys would come across her for light conversation, but it always ended in a manly pat on the shoulder. She even remembered hugging Neville before he left and that had to be the manliest hug she had encountered. Even Ron embraced her like an old drinking chum.

_God dammit, Hermione. Get over yourself. Grow a penis if it would make you feel better. Classes start Monday._

* * *

><p>The first day of classes was always slightly dull as professors went over the curriculum and classroom conduct, but Hermione was always excited. So much so she practically skipped to Advanced Potions with Slughorn. Now everyone probably thought she got some action over the weekend. Which was false.<p>

Then there was Defense Against the Dark Arts class, sitting next to Alex. Her hands were sweaty as she waited for Professor Snape to arrive.

Yes, Snape survived Nagini's bite, much to everyone's and his surprise. Of course, while he was in St. Mungo's recovering, he had been cleared and his story highly publicized. Hermione wondered what went on with him. Apparently he had moved on with his life, with no retribution to strive for.

Perhaps he just gave up being bitter but last she heard Snape was now seeing the physical therapist that helped him recover. Her name was Nancy Analahu, according to the Quibbler, and girls that knew Snape wondered what kind of person she was to even want to start dating Snape. Hermione feared that this woman was after him for his pseudo fame. He deserved more, right? But Snape had to be sensible enough to know the risks involved.

Harry never visited him. He was still too dumbstruck with the fact that his most hated teacher loved his mother. He wouldn't know what to say. That and he was afraid what Snape would do since Harry 'accidently' let loose his unrequited romance.

He was back. He must've arrived during the weekend because he wasn't around at the Sorting Ceremony, even though he was now Deputy Headmaster.

"So everyone seems so uptight about this Snape guy," Alex murmured.

"You'll see," Hermone replied, barely breathing.

The doors to the classroom burst opened.

Yes, indeed.

Snape swept up to the front of the class and the girl behind her gasped.

Severus Snape had changed a little. His hair seemed less stringy and oily than it did before. He had a short, well-manicured beard that he grew, probably to hide the winding scar from the bite that ran up his neck and a little above his jaw line, where facial hair did not grow. He still had those long black, sweeping robes, but he seemed to fill them out better, like he packed on extra muscle during his physical training.

Without further ado, he pointed to the scar on his neck.

"See this! Yes this is it! The scar! It's ugly I know. See it? Good! Now get over it!"

Hermione was shocked by his bluntness, but it was effective.

"I am quite aware of how the public sees me. Never thought that sharing memories would come to bite me in the ass. You'd think Harry Potter could handle just one thing right."

Hermione suppressed a giggle. His sarcasm, though forceful, seemed less biting than it did before.

Snape continued, "Now onto roll."

With a swish and flick a scroll appeared and he read off the names. He read her name and she responded. He responded with a nod and checked her off.

"Alexander Summers…ah yes, the American."

Alex shook his head, not liking how he finished his sentence with spite, "Hey, at least I'm not French. Am I right?"

Silence got heavier and Hermione kicked his shin under the lecture hall desk.

"Ow…"

Snape stared at Alex for a long time. It was a stare down, sort of. Alex was clearly uncomfortable.

Snape stared back down at his scroll murmuring, "Point taken."

The class chuckled lightly, a little afraid to laugh too loudly. Since when did Snape have a sense of humor? Regardless, the most effective spy in the past century finished roll before his scroll disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

"Now, I know it is not necessarily appropriate to speak of recent events. I am quite aware that many of you lost friends and it is my job to see NOTHING like that happens again. The best way I can do that is to provide with instruction to prepare you for everything and anything. I would recommend you all keep in decent shape, because defending against enemies is not only magical but also physical. All too often wizards and witches fall because of exhaustion. Are there any questions so far?"

A Ravenclaw student next to Hermione raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Carlyle?"

"Yeah, sir, will you teaching us how to fight snakes?" the snide Ravenclaw chuckled and high-fived his friend next to him. Hermione held her breath. This arse didn't know what he was getting himself into.

Snape gave a cold smile with what seemed to be finding light humor with the Ravenclaw's joke. That was until he shed his robes and throwing them on his desk so he was in just his shirtsleeves. He strode up the rows and immediately Alex dove out of his seat for Snape to get access to the row.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger," he said as he thrust arm past her, grabbing the collar of Carlyle's robes, pulling him over the desk. He dragged the young man down to the front of the class.

"Mr. Carlyle thinks that this is all a game. Why don't we show how fun this business is?"

He pushed Carlyle away and stepped back, drawing his wand.

"Wand out Mr. Carlyle. Let's see how you survived battle."

Hand shaking, Carlyle pulled out his wand and yelled, "Impedimentia!"

Snape easily blocked it and, without a word, cast a spell that tripped Carlyle up in the air and he landed flat on his back. Snape was over him, "Do you know what being capped in the knees feels like?"

Carlyle shook his head. He was still rolling on the floor, grabbing his gut, whimpering in fear and agony.

"Shall I give you a demonstration?" Snape said coolly pointing his wand to one of the boy's kneecaps.

"N-no!"

"Or I could teach you an old fashioned trick," Snape flipped Carlyle over pulled his head back by the forehead, tilting his chin up, as if he were about to break his neck.

"One way to kill a snake, to answer your question is to snap the neck. Separate the head from the rest of the body."

Snape made a jerking move but didn't do anything but scare the Ravenclaw. The young man whimpered violently. The older man chuckled and dropped Carlyle onto the floor.

"You need more instruction. Twenty points from Ravenclaw. Mr. Peters…" Snape motioned Carlyle's Ravenclaw friend to come down, "Take Mr. Carlyle to the infirmary. Anyone else have something smart to say?"

As Peters took his friend out of the classroom, Hermione was acutely aware of the murmuring going.

"He's like a drill sergeant…"

"He beat the crap out of that guy…"

"This guy's hardcore…"

Snape interrupted their murmuring, "Now! I used silent casting to use a Disruptive Diaphragm hex. It simulates being punched in the stomach and having the wind knocked out of your lungs. I threatened, but DID NOT use, is Ossafrangere curse that, I'm sure you've heard, breaks or shatters bones. Both can be used to incapacitate an enemy for you to make a swift getaway. I will be teaching you both jinxes eventually. However, due to the danger of some of the spells I will teach you, some days we will be fighting against practice dummies. Starting next month however, we will have what I call Weeklies. At the end of every week, we will have dueling sessions to see what you have learned."

Many of the students murmured their excitement. Snape cleared his throat and glanced at his watch.

"Well…I still have some time left but I have nothing more to say. Are there any questions?"

Pretty much everyone raised their hands. Snape rolled his eyes before he clarified, "That pertains to the course material."

Several hands went down. Hermione grinned and shook her head.

"Miss Holstead," he pointed to a Slytherin girl.

"Isn't Ossafrangere a Dark spell?"

"No, you're thinking of the Osperdere, which destroys the bone in a most painful way. I won't be teaching you that, even though it is important to know Dark spells and their counter curses."

Once again, with a sigh, Snape glanced at his watch, "You know what? I'm done with you all. Get on out of here."

The students obeyed, meanwhile Hermione found herself sitting still, eyeing the Professor. Alex stood and whispered, "I'll see you at lunch."

That caused her to jump out of her chair and follow Alex down. Alex smirked at Snape, "See you later, teach!"

Not surprisingly, Snape scowled after the young man. Meanwhile, Hermione inched closer to Professor Snape. Her heart was thumping. She had to tell him. She had to thank him. If not for her, for Harry. Snape noticed her standing there.

"What is wrong, Miss Granger?" He sounded impatient and annoyed.

Hermione opened her mouth but no words came out.

"Well," he crossed his arms, "spit it out!"

She blinked and snapped, raging confidence pouring through her. She extended a hand, "I-I just wanted to say…thank you. For everything."

His brow furrowed as if he hadn't heard her right. With a quick glance at his feet, arms still crossed, he stepped forward, and took her hand.

"You are quite welcome…I guess."

Hermione smiled at her professor. Snape sighed, "I must admit. I am somewhat glad to see that you wish to continue with a complete education. Apparently Messers Potter and Weasley believe they are 'too cool for school'. There is still so much danger out there to prepare for and…"

He stopped, rubbing his forehead, "Boy, that's unhealthy. That's the first place I go. No wonder I'm paranoid."

"Maybe you just need to take a moment to realize the war is over," Hermione suggested. "I know after that last battle, things start to seem…dull."

"Oh, I hope not," a voice interrupted them. A woman in her early thirties entered the room. She was moderately beautiful, with olive skin and long dark wavy hair indicative of her Middle Eastern decent, and golden-green eyes that sparkled with a gentle twinkle. "I hoping that you don't find me dull, Severus."

Snape snorted softly, "Hardly, my dear."

With a smile she stared at Hermione, and Snape jerked, "Sorry, this is Hermione Granger. Head Girl here at Hogwarts. You've probably seen her in the papers."

The woman extended her hand, "How do you do?"

"Well thank you."

"Miss Granger, this is Nancy Analahu. She's my…" Snape inhaled sharply, "…partner."

It was like he was so unused to saying it. Which was probably true, but 'partner' didn't seem like an appropriate term to call Miss Analahu. It seemed…impersonal. Then again, a thirty-eight-year-old man using the term "girlfriend" just didn't seem quite right.

"Nancy, what are you doing here?"

The woman shrugged, "I thought I'd take you out to lunch for your first day back."

Snape shook his head, "Nope, I'll take you to lunch."

Nancy resumed her smile, but shook her head, laughing a little, "I really want to take you out, for once. I know this souvlaki place that just opened next to the deli in Diagon Alley. It's supposed to be to die for."

With a submissive sigh, Snape nodded, "Alright, but hold on a second. I have a feeling I'm going to have a long talk with the Headmistress."

Almost as if on cue, a Scottish shrill called throughout the hall outside the classroom, "Severus Snape!"

"Here we go…"

A furious McGonagall was framed in the doorway, "What…? How…? I don't even know where to begin! A Disruptive Diaphragm spell on a student? Are you insane?"

Snape opened his mouth to defend himself, but McGonagall stopped him.

"Don't answer. If you're not in my office in ten minutes we'll have a rematch of our duel in the Great Hall."

Snape seemed to find that amusing, "Really, are you sure you'd be up for that? I thought I was doing pretty well considering I was out-manned."

"If you hadn't run away, I would've won!" McGonagall argued back.

"Again, I ran because I was out-manned."

"I don't care. Just get to my office so I don't have to chew you out in front of dear Nancy and Hermione here."

The Headmistress marched off down the busy hallways in a huff and Snape had an amused look on his face.

"Sorry you both had to see that. The Headmistress has trouble seeing the effectiveness of varying methods of INSTRUCTION!"

He shouted the last word in the hall and out of nowhere McGonagall's voice repeated back, "I WOULD'VE WON!"

Hermoine did not hide her smile. She was glad that McGonagall had accepted the shadowy hero back into the fold, despite transgressions from the past. It was obvious from their exchange that there were some hard feelings, but right down to the core they had come to respect and accept each other.

Snape turned to Analahu and said softly, "Wait for me in the Entrance Hall. I will be along."

She left with a nod and Snape turned back to Hermione, "What are you grinning at?"

"Nothing, Professor."

* * *

><p>After she left the Defense classroom, Hermione wasn't particularly hungry yet so she wanted to head to the library to pick up a book. The library was quiet as usual, with old Madam Prince casting disapproving glares at anyone who made too much noise.<p>

Hermione needed at this moment was a journal on Transfiguration. She had thought of it when Alex explained his uselessness in Transfiguration. One journal in particular, she found, explained clearly the mindset needed when doing Transfiguration. Much to her dismay, she could not find it.

"Excuse me, Madam Pince?"

The shriveled stern woman peered up from her book, giving Hermione a stern glare.

"Do you happen to have the third edition of _Duilo Journal of Transfiguration and Transmutation: Volume 3_?"

Pince tightened her lips, "Someone has already checked it out. He's right there. You could ask to borrow it."

She turned towards the table to old woman was pointing at. There, looking studious and intense was Xun Zhou. Xun Zhou was a Ravenclaw prefect, cousin of Cho Chang and captain of their Quidditch team. He was a Chaser and a damned good one too. He would likely become one of the top Quidditch picks in the draft next year.

Zhou would be considered attractive. From when she passed him in the halls, he was an imposing young man, with broad shoulders, chiseled, serious looks, and glasses. Hermione had heard that, although girls fawned over him, he would brush it by, too focused on Quidditch and studies. His seriousness just seemed to turn on the girls more. She had yet to say two words to Zhou.

If she were honest, it was like speaking to Professor Snape in her fourth year. Intimidating and likely to leave her in tears. Xun Zhou didn't seem to be the warm and cuddly type. Regardless, she approached the desk, daring to interrupt Zhou's studious scribbling. The book she was looking for was lying closed at the corner of the desk. Maybe he was finished with it.

"Excuse me, Xun Zhou?" Hermione's voice became uncharacteristically timid. The young man glanced up.

"Yes?" his voice was deep and rich making him seem older than what he was.

"I meant to ask you about that journal," Hermione pointed to the Transfiguration journal. "Are you finished with it? I would like to borrow it."

Zhou glanced at the journal and turned his dark brown eyes to her, "I'm not yet finished with it, Miss Granger. It will only be a few moments though."

"You don't have to rush. Do you think, when you are done, you could drop it off at the Head Girl dorm after dinner?"

Zhou glanced down at his assignment, "I think that could be arranged."

Xun Zhou did not smile, his face as solid as the muscles underneath his robes, yet Hermione felt a little better. Maybe Zhou was not that bad to talk to. Regardless, as he went back to his writing, and Hermione took that as a cue to leave.

* * *

><p>"What exactly were you doing with Mr. Hates-his-jobs-enough-to-beat-on-a-kid?" Alex asked when Hermione met him at lunch. His little name elicited a hard stare from her. The American shrugged, "It took me fifteen minutes to come up with that."<p>

"I had to go to the library and pick up a book. Unfortunately it is checked out. I thought it would help you with Transfiguration."

"Oh, shame," Alex offered her some butter, "Shmear?"

"No thanks."

"Where do you guys get your butter anyways?"

"Cows."

Alex examined the butter with an inquisitive look, "Never knew England was proficient in dairy."

"Most of the time we import it, but there are farms."

"Only farms I knew you guys had held sheep. I saw an internet video once of shepherds in Scotland playing Pong with their sheep."

Hermione did a double take, "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, they lined their sheep on a hill and used their sheep dogs to move groups to make this Pong game. Is that what Scottish shepherds do in their spare time? If so then they honestly have way too much time on their hands."

"And you must too much time on your hands if you stumble upon that on the internet."

Alex opened his mouth for a rebuttal but closed it and grinned, turning back to his sandwich, "Point taken."

Hermione sighed and stared off in the distance, "I can't believe this…?"

"Why yes it is butter," Alex murmured waving the butter tray in front of her face.

"No, not that…"

"Then what? Guy trouble? Someone dumped you?"

With a half-hearted glare Hermione responded, "No…"

"Then what?"

Hermione gazed around at the students eating lunch, chatting away, "It's like nothing happened."

She didn't see Alex rub his forehead, "Look I'm not going to pretend to understand what went on here. The United States Ministry issued a No-Apparition Zone here two years ago and only just recently lifted it. Other than that I'm sort of in the dark."

"Sort of like Dark Wizard terrorism."

Alex nearly choked on his juice, "Alright, alright. Well…"

He turned to her, kind hazel eyes peering into hers, "Why don't we…get together sometime and you tell me all about it."

She scowled, saying dispassionately, "Stop it. You slay me."

Alex cocked his head as she stood from her seat.

"C'mon Hermione…"

"We can talk during your Transfiguration tutoring sessions," she left in a hurry, not feeling comfortable being hit on. She never was.

"At least eat something…"

Hermione already left the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah I brought him back. The guy had the shittiest life I have ever read so I just thought I would bring him back to have a chance at life not dictated by Dumbledore or Voldemort. The 'traversing the galaxy' line was from A Very Potter Musical on Youtube. I laughed my ass off. The sheep playing Pong reference can also be seen on youtube.

*Ossafrangere-loosely 'break bone'

*Osperdere-loosely 'destroy bone'


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Everyone (except for some OCs) belong the Rowling (like I have to tell you). If she still wishes to sue me, she won't get much.

Chapter 4

With a sigh, Severus Snape eased himself into chair across from the Headmistress in her office. How many times had he been in this situation? Several, he guessed, only he was used to having that man in the portrait sitting on the other side. He felt more at ease now that he saw Dumbledore smiling at him from to portrait, the unmistakable look of pride on his face.

"Severus…" Dumbledore croaked through silent tears, "You look well."

Snape inhaled, afraid of what to say when McGonagall scolded, "Hush, Albus, he's about the be reprimanded."

Snape snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair like a rebellious sixth year.

"You hexed a student and threatened to break his kneecaps and break his neck," she hissed incredulously. "What were you thinking?"

"The student needed to put in his place."

"Give him detention! Don't hex him in the gut!" she shrilled, "You've been teaching for seventeen years, I can't believe I have to tell you this! Most of these students are still recovering from what the Carrows did."

That may have gone too far as Snape leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. He leaned back and looked submissive, "You're right. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Minerva felt a pang of guilt and pity for the man, and she sighed, "I know you did your best in protecting the children without eliciting suspicion from the Carrows."

Snape shifted in his seat, jaw cracking as he worked it, feeling uncomfortable and not wanting to talk about the losses that occurred under his watch.

"So how do we get by this?" He asked. McGonagall shrugged and smiled.

"We could hug it out."

"Sure," he grunted as he rocked out of his chair, meeting her motherly embrace. The portraits in the room 'aww'd' and McGonagall chuckled, patting her former student on the back. They parted and McGonagall regarded the younger man at arms length, like a mother to a visiting son.

"Now go on! Get out of here!" she waved him away, "You don't want to make Nancy wait too long."

Snape had already started towards the door when a thought caught up to him, "Which reminds me…"

He said as he turned back sheepishly.

"Yes," she said cautiously, eyeing him.

"I meant to ask you about quarter arrangement."

"Your quarters were the same as it always been. Do you want to move?"

"No, not necessarily," Snape paused. "It's just a little…empty."

"Empty?"

"Yes, empty."

Dumbledore actually rolled his eyes in his portrait, "For god's sake, Minerva. He wants Nancy to move in."

McGonagall's face hardened and her eyes widened, still staring at Snape, "Is this true."

Snape nodded, resolutely, "Yes."

"I don't know," she shook her head. "You two aren't married, but is it that serious?"

"I'd like to think so."

McGonagall was torn between her prudish nature and her joy that Snape had found somebody. Her prudish nature won out.

"I don't think it would be a good idea. You two aren't married. What would the students think? You need to set an example."

Snape sighed, "For god's sake, Minerva, it's not like we're going to start necking in the hallways. We do have some sort of sense of decorum."

"But these students, no matter how much you think otherwise, are smart enough to figure out what goes on between a man and a woman when they live together."

"Look, Nancy and I are in a consensual, responsible, adult relationship- Albus, if you say anything, I'll throw paint thinner on your portrait."

Dumbledore's cheeks colored as his lips thinned to prevent him from saying something smart. Meanwhile, Snape turned his gaze back, looking at Minerva expectantly. He was an intensely private man. If there's anyone who she thought could keep the nature of his relationship on the down low it was him. His relationship with Nancy was hardly one like these teens had with each other. Maybe maturity in regards to relationships could be taught through their example.

Still, the thought of an unmarried couple living together made her shiver.

McGonagall held up her hands in submission, "Alright, alright, I'm still not comfortable with this."

"You don't have to be. We'll be several floors below your rooms. If you hear us, then know it must be a good day."

She stared at him aghast, but he left the office before she could protest.

* * *

><p>"Hermione Granger! What in the name of Circe's braces is your problem?" Ginny shouted as she barged in through the Head Girl's dorm unannounced, surprising Hermione. Hermione jumped in her sofa staring incredulously.<p>

"Wait…how did you…?" Hermione was about to ask how Ginny entered her password-protected room.

Ginny wasn't paying attention as she dropped her bag on the coffee table and rounded on the older girl.

"You have a perfectly good man proposition you and you turn him down! Are you completely thick?"

"He didn't 'proposition' me. He just asked me to explain this whole Voldemort thing in a private place while we have dinner or something."

"Which is a proposition," Ginny crossed her arms looking a little like Snape correcting a student's half-wrong answer.

"So I panicked. Nobody has ever asked me out like _that_. I don't even know if he was asking me out."

Ginny drew over her, her tall frame imposing and Hermione shrank deeper into her couch trying to hide her face with a book.

"And you still accept the offer. That's how half Harry's dates happened. It starts off as a joke but we go off and have a nice evening together. No one really plans these things. Especially at our age."

Suddenly, the bell started ringing, letting her know that someone was outside her portrait waiting for her. Hermione crawled out of Ginny's gaze, landing on the floor, and scrambling to her feet.

"That must be Xun. He's lending me a book."

Ginny's mouth dropped, "Xun Zhou? The most eligible bachelor and Quidditch hotness extraordinaire?"

"Er…I guess," Hermione murmured opening her portrait hole. She stepped outside.

"Hi Xun," she greeted with a smile.

Meanwhile, Ginny saw fit to shout, "Ask her out!"

Hermione slammed her portrait closed and the Red Maiden scowled at being handled so roughly.

"Sorry about her."

Xun's eyebrows were raised in mild surprise and his face seemed less stern. Xun inhaled, and reached into his rucksack, pulling out the Transfiguration journal.

"Here's that journal you wanted. I told Madame Pince that I would be giving it to you."

"Oh thanks," Hermione smiled taking the journal and nestling it against her chest, "I hope I didn't set your studies short?"

"No. I just had a to write something quick. What do you need it for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm tutoring a student for Transfiguration and I thought I would give him something for him to read that made it clear to understand the dynamics of Transfiguration."

Xun smiled a little, the corner of his mouth curling. He sure wasn't used to smiling, "Well, then there's no better book on that. A three-year-old can understand Transfiguration after reading those articles."

"Well, thanks anyway," Hermione said softly, waving goodbye as Xun gave a nod in gratitude. The burly young man left down the hall, and Hermione went back into her rooms, not really wanting to face the 'Red Menace' as she so lovingly dubbed Ginny in her head.

Sure enough, Ginny was wide-eyed in anticipation. Ginny normally was reserved when it came to relationships, feeling insecure about her own relationship with Harry. Yet, as she slowly grew more confident with Harry and being delighted at seeing her socially awkward brother get involved, she drew out of her shell, wanting to match make everyone. At heart, she just wanted to make people happy.

"Soooo what was that about?"

"He just gave me a book," Hermione said colorlessly, showing her the journal, "Honestly, Ginny, not every guy that I talk to is relationship material. We've been through this. I'll deal with it when I deal with it. Besides…I've never dealt with anyone that…manly."

Hermione wasn't sure she used the right adjective, but she couldn't describe to Ginny her discomfort at being around Quidditch driven men. Her sixth year bout with McLaggen only furthered that phobia. Gods, she was so picky.

"Manly yes, but I like it too," Ginny said with a smirk.

Hermione glared, "You did not just say that."

"Oh, come off it, 'Mione. I'm just playing with you."

Hermione sighed and dropped the journal on the table and settling into her chair, "I know."

"Depressed right?"

"Maybe. Just cynical."

Ginny nodded, "I understand. Just get through this year and everything will be fine."

Hogwarts was not what was worrying her. Heck, she could spend the next seven years at Hogwarts if given the chance. Life was just bothering her. She had to find a career, most importantly. Something that suited her. All this talk of boys was just distracting. It made her feel like she was on a time stamp and that after a few years, she would have missed her chance at any relationship.

"Listen Hermione," Ginny said calmly, her frenzy at seeing her friend with somebody, "I want to get back to Alex now. I mean he's the first guy, besides Ron, who dared to even ask you out. At the very least, tell him you are not interested in a relationship."

"I should apologize," Hermione admitted, feeling guilt wash over her. She could at the very least, take Summers' passes in stride instead of completely blowing them off. She did, after all, offer to tutor him.

"A good apology would be inviting him to the Three Broomsticks this weekend," Ginny grinned.

"What? Is that where Harry and Ron are spending the most of their time now?"

"Yup!"

"Figures," Hermione murmured, "It's good to see that they haven't changed much."

* * *

><p>During the next day, Hermione did not see Alex. They didn't have any classes together that day, thanks to the new class division system, so it wasn't unusual. Unfortunately, she didn't even see him at lunch.<p>

After being directed by a few Gryffindor first years, Hermione found Alex, spending his free time in between classes in one of the castle's outer walkways, leaning over the stone ledge in between the columns staring out, watching the scenic Scottish landscape. He was wearing that same baseball cap, his uniform loose, as if he wasn't at all used to wearing a school uniform.

He didn't glance at her as she approached him slowly, his fingers were absent-mindedly picking at a crack in the stone ledge.

"Alex?" she called and the young man nodded, still staring out at the landscape. Hermione nodded and sighed, "Are you…alright?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he said with a little more enthusiasm than expected. He adjusted his cap a little. It was a black cap with a stylized white 'G' in the center and in bold letters it read "Super Bowl XLV Champions Green Bay Packers". Hermione had no idea what the heck that was all about, but Alex seemed to really love that hat.

"You look a little…lost. Excuse me for prying."

"Do I?" Alex's brow furrowed under his cap. He smirked and chuckled, "Maybe I do seem lost. I'm in the middle of nowhere somewhere in the British Isles, miles away from home, and although you and I speak the same language, much of the lingo is slightly different."

Hermione shrugged, "Surely it's not that bad."

"It's not. It's fine, just takes a little getting used to."

Hermione mimicked his position, leaning over the ledge and therein followed silence. Awkward silence. She hadn't felt this uncomfortable since Ron tried to kiss her in public during a victory celebration. Their kisses were always awkward put with people watching—some of them cringing—just made it worse.

"I'm sorry for blowing off like that yesterday," Hermione said softly, not looking Alex in the face. If she had she would've seen him do a double take, eyes wide in shock.

"You mean after lunch?"

"Yes," Hermione finally faced him, seeing him scoff and wave it off.

"Think nothing of it. I shouldn't have asked you something like that on the fly. My tone didn't help I presume."

"Your tone? You did make it sound like you wanted to ask me out."

"Sure, yes, I did. Strictly platonic at this point, wouldn't you agree? Your ginger friend said you were wary after you broke up with your last one. Just a talk and drink amongst friends, I guess."

Hermione stared at him open mouthed. What was he trying to say? It was almost like he wasn't even sure of what he was trying to say. Poor kid. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he didn't want to offend her by saying that he wasn't attracted to her in that way. Girls too could be quite confusing creatures. The only difference was Hermione was a mature young woman, in both body and mind.

With a dejected sigh, Alex scratched the light brown hairs growing on his chin. Hermione kept staring at his hat, not daring to scrutinize his face.

"Listen, my 'ginger friend' invited me to meet some other friends for some drinks at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade this weekend. Would you like to come?"

"This weekend?" Alex bit his lip, "Sure I can go, if you'll escort me. I don't know my way around Hogsmeade."

Hermione smiled, almost laughing to herself, "Of course, we have Transfiguration practice that morning too. Here."

She handed him the Transfiguration journal, "Hopefully this will help you. I suggest you read all of it by the weekend. I think it will make things much clearer."

Alex was different from Ron and Harry, or he was at least more polite. Ron and possibly Harry would whine and complain and Hermione would sit there and give them a lecture for about an hour. Then it would be a fifty-fifty chance if they actually went and did as she suggested. Alex on the other hand said thanks and flipped through the pages, in much the same way she did before reading an interesting book at a better time.

"Your hat," Hermione pointed out, finding herself still deciphering what it could be. She already guessed it involved baseball. He was a baseball player and it was a baseball cap. Her curiosity got the best of her, "Is that a baseball team or a Quidditch team in America?"

Alex took off his hat, "This? No. The Green Bay Packers are my favorite football team. Sorry, an American football team. Do you know it?"

"American football?" Hermione vaguely remembered a friend of her dad's mentioning the sport a few times after coming back from a trip to Texas, "You mean where they pass a leather ball and they run around with it. Like rugby."

Alex chuckled and smiled a charming little smile, as he placed the hat back on his head. Okay, so he could be cute. Teddy bear cute at least.

"You've got it Hermione."

"Being Muggleborn has its perks."

"Well both my parents are magical," Alex responded without any superior tone. "My guess is the politics are different here in regards to that."

"Yes," she replied with a sigh of frustration, "But they are working on it."

"America is a large place with several wizards and witches but there are fewer places where they can live and be accepted than most realize. We generally avoid the Corn Belt because of things I do not wish to get into. The debate could get…heated. However we support integration in the Muggle world and that's been around since the Red Scare in 1950. The era of the modern witch hunts, if you will."

Hermioine nodded, "History is not lost on you, is it?"

"No, ma'am it is not. It's always been a passion of mine. Oddly enough."

Hermione felt her chest swell, suppressing thousands of discussion topics on history. His little confession just seemed to open so many doors for her. However, she calmed herself, reminded that they both had classes in a few minutes, "Well, if that is your interest, I recommend Hogwarts: A History. It is completely invigorating and my favorite book."

"Your favorite book? Well, I'll be sure to check that out after I read this," he held up the Transfiguration journal. As he did, he glanced at his watch, "Well, I'd better get going. Potions."

Hermione let him go, "I'll see you at lunch."

Alex winked at her and jogged down the walkway.

* * *

><p>AN: I almost forgot to mention Alex's baseball nickname "Hebrew Hammer" is what fans call baseball hitter Ryan Braun. I loved that name so I sort of gave it to him. This was a weird chapter. Not as funny as I wanted it to be. Review anyway, please.


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